


a familiar smile, stained on my mind

by droukhunter



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Gen, chase scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/droukhunter/pseuds/droukhunter
Summary: A smuggler runs into complications when a young Sith apprentice asks for her help to defect from the Empire.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Hutts. Kriffin’ Hutts. Omyara would be fine if she never saw another Hutt ever again, and even then, it’d still be too soon.

“Mharga, oh illustrious  _ slippery bastard _ , just be cooperative. You give me the commissioner’s fee, or your business rival’s getting your blasters. He’s already made a better offer than what you’ve promised,” Omyara said, putting on her best intimidating sneer. “A much better offer, in the range of thirty percent better. Just trust me, you want to be on my good side. He really wants to screw you over.”

Mharga the Hutt--kriffing slug he was--simply laughed in response. “Little girl, you don’t scare me. Don’t even bother trying. Guards, escort this street rat off my pleasure barge, unless...she’d like to return in chains. Oh, and check the Bare Minimum for blasters.” He turned back to look at her. “You should be grateful for your freedom and your life. Normally, I’m much less generous towards smugglers who bother to double-cross me like you have.”

Omyara resigned herself to rolling her eyes and making a rude gesture at Mharga as she’s dragged by his guards out of his throne room. She wouldn’t have had a chance shooting him with his entire guard regiment near his person at all times. Shame about the blasters, though. She’d have to call her other possible buyer to make sure he got there first. He’d already paid her, after all. Good business practices and all that.

Now, she was at a small cantina in the seediest part of the Red Light Sector, playing sabacc with a bunch of folks who are dumb as rocks and about as street-savvy as ‘em. At least that way, she could earn back her investment by rigging the odds in her favor. Or maybe making a few business arrangements while playing. 

Sabacc tended to be a good way of networking with potential clients, from her experience. You learn their tells and whether they’re worth allying with, even temporarily. If you proved yourself, and they held up their end (and maybe a little more than that), they were worth working with more than once. If not, at least you could charm them out of their credits. It was all about learning their tells and what pushes their buttons.

It’s why mutual using was the way of the underworld. No compassion or kindness to be found in those who closed their hearts off in the service of survival. It was why Omyara had sealed herself off. Not that she had much of a heart to begin with.

Which made the next twenty minutes all the more surprising to her, now that her last game of the evening was finished up and moved on to planning her navigation routes to plot out the most efficient route for all the “cargo transit” and avoid suspected law enforcement patrols near the Inner Rim, where one of her pickup points was.

She’d been so engrossed in her travel planning that she hadn’t noticed that a little orange Twi’lek girl snuck up on her, having escaped Omyara’s intense observation of her surroundings for trouble. The girl pulled on Omyara’s sleeve, causing the Zabrak to jump in her seat.

“Hey, don’t scare a girl like that!” she yelped.

The girl was wearing black robes that were way too big for her, Omyara noted. “Hey, horn lady! I’m scared. Can I hide here, in your corner?”

“Scram, kid. I don’t know what you want with me, but based on how you dress, I know you can’t pay the fees I charge for personnel transit.”

“Please, the big scary man is coming for me!” the little girl replied, tearing up.

A little girl after her own heart. Omyara found herself sympathetic, despite herself. She’d recognized the look of fear in her voice; it was real. That, and maybe it was fair to pay back the suckers who’d kept her safe when she’d been nothing more than a street womp rat with nowhere to hide from the slavers and cruel law enforcement on the cesspool of a world that is Nar Shaddaa all those years ago.

Though she’d live after the smoke cleared, unlike those who protected her as a kid. “Okay, kiddo. Right there, where there’s not enough light to see you,” she whispered to the little girl, whose lekku twitched anxiously as she hid in the back of the booth.

A tall, imposing Sith walked into the bar. It was like a joke with a horrible punchline, Omyara thought idly. One that goes: “A Sith walks into a bar, kills Omyara, and puts the little kid into Imperial slavery. Or worse: they both die.”

She realized that the little girl’s robes were black. And that might mean something. Blast! This was kriffing dangerous poodoo she’d stepped in.

The little Twi’lek knitted her painted eyebrows in terror, making a gesture with her hand. It was as though she were invisible. But Omyara knew she was technically still there, somehow. She didn’t have a stealth generator on. That kinda tech was hard to miss if you knew what to look for.

Kriff. That was  _ the Force _ . Omyara resisted the urge to kick herself for not noticing earlier.

So much for her reputation of avoiding trouble and being shrewd!

But the Sith seemed to not notice the little girl’s presence, and he left awfully quickly for someone with an agenda. Luckily. Since the little girl looked really tired once whatever she did wore off.

Omyara let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Kid, you’ve really gotta warn a girl if you’re gonna pull stuff like that.”

The girl smiled with a toothy grin. “I did.” A pause. “Technically.”

Omyara simply made a face. “Uh, sure. Totally. Very specific about who ‘the big scary man’ was. You do realize that describes nearly every man on this planet, right?” 

The little girl giggled at that. “Thanks for saving me. You’re my hero. I’m Ann’aola Tualin. Momma told me to tell heroes my name. It’s a fair exchange.”

“Then your momma’s idea of fair is  _ seriously _ messed up. Also her idea of a  _ hero _ . Heroes don’t hang out in dives like these.” The serving droid beeped up something that translated vaguely like ‘Your mama = a--’ before Omyara cut it off. “Seriously, she sounds kinda kooky.”

“That said, I can drop you off on the way to my next job, if that gets you away from the Imps. I know a thing or two about avoiding those creeps. They’re a bunch of schuttas who wouldn’t know what freedom was if it punched them in the face. Or what an honest livin’ looks like.”

“Did they hurt you, too?” Omyara then noticed the deep scarring indicating brands on Ann’s face. Or maybe a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Not that Omyara would have known.

They didn’t brand their prisoners like that. They just killed ‘em. Omyara’d barely managed to escape her execution date when she’d gotten on the wrong side of Imperial law.

And she’d only just recovered the losses she’d taken to grease her way out of that one.

“Yes, miss...what’s your name?”

“Omyara. Just Omyara.”

“Thanks, ‘Myara.” What a cute kid. Shame she’d had to go through all of that. Hopefully the Jedi would take her in. Better than those Sith bastards.

“Say, kiddo, I might be able to swing a trip to Coruscant, if you want to join the Jedi. I know the temple was destroyed some time ago, but I wouldn’t even begin to know where they train now. It’s all on the hush-hush. But you gotta earn your keep, ya hear? Girl’s gotta eat, and so does my ship.”

“Ships don’t eat!” Ann’aola giggled. Kids. Omyara rolled her eyes, but finds herself smiling anyway.

“Fuel, kid. They eat fuel. And the  _ Bare Minimum _ eats fuel like a black hole eats everything it touches. Also, it was a joke, you’re right.”

“What do you want me to do to help? I want to help you. If a hero asks for reasonable help, Momma said to do it.”

“Momma’s not as stupid as I thought, then. Huh.” Omyara paused, pulling her wide-brimmed hat off the table and putting it on Ann’aola’s head, fastening it on in such a way that didn’t rub her lekku the wrong way. “This’ll hide your face, if anyone has a price on your head. You can take it off once we’re on the ship. We can talk terms once we’re on-board if you want. Otherwise I’ll drop you off in the Inner Rim somewhere. Probably Taanab, if that’s okay.”

“Okay, I can wait until then. Thank you for saving me again. I’ll do my best to be useful.”

“Not like that, you know. It’s more like...you know what? I’ll tell you on board the  _ Minimum _ . But first, we gotta get out of here. Your Sith buddy might come back, and I doubt even my lucky blasters’ll be enough to stop ‘im.”

Omyara put a finger on her lips and she and Anna turned the corner before reaching the rented speeder, noticing that the Sith who’d been looking around the cantina earlier was nearby. Tall and imposing definitely summed him up and then some.

Unfortunately, he’d noticed the both of them via his weird warlock mumbo-jumbo (it’s the Force, her mind answered unhelpfully) and turned towards them. “Anna, I know you’re there. Don’t bother trying to run. I might let you keep your freedom, if only you return to me.”

He was one of those red Sith with the funny-looking facial ridges. Not really the kinda guy you wanna mess with. Omyara looked pointedly at Anna, who had since used her own fancy powers to cloak herself. “Uh...think you’ve got the wrong woman, buddy,” she meekly replied, raising her hands in surrender. “I’ll just be taking the rented speeder over there. Now, if you’ll excuse--”

The Sith grabbed her by the collar. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but if you take my apprentice from me, you’ll wish you were never born, gutter trash. I can make your every moment a living nightmare by the snap of my fingers.”

“Okay, pal,” she muttered. She’d let him talk and then use the opportunity to slide her spare credit chit into the payment slot and hop in before he was any the wiser. Sure enough, he kept talking, ranting, and raving about all the horrible things he’d do to her if she didn’t hand over his apprentice (why did he care so much, she wondered, since he clearly didn’t think about what Anna wanted) that he didn’t notice her slide the credit chit and Anna temporarily uncloaking as she hopped into the back seat. Omyara herself snuck into the front seat as he screamed, “You will hear from me!” at the rented speeder’s receding form.

Anna snickered as she finally fully uncloaked herself. “You have got to teach me that!” she said.

“‘M afraid not, kiddo. Trade secret.”

“Come on, please,” she pleaded. The kid was too sweet to say no to, and honestly, that was a bad thing.

“Ugh, fine, maybe once we’re on the ship.”

A strange feeling made her shiver, and to verify that it was nothing, she looked behind her.

It was that Sith, riding a speeder in her direction. “Hold on tight, we’ve got company!” she shouted, revving the speeder faster than its recommended speed limit and swerving it around passing traffic.

“Is it him?” Anna asked, her voice suddenly shrinking, like a wilting flower.

“Yes, it is! Don’t worry, I’ve got this!”

A floating advertisement, or rather specifically one of the ones that Omyara kept seeing all over the galaxy for that lipstick with the sexy lady saying “Sometimes it’s all I wear…” and that she secretly hated, was ripped from its normal location to where the Zabrak and Twi’lek were driving into, and Omyara swerved downwards to avoid it.

“Love that ad,” she muttered to herself. “Absolutely  _ love _ that ad.”

“Do you?” Anna asked.

“Sarcasm, kid! Seriously, I’m gonna have to teach you lots of things.” Her words came out sharper than she’d meant them to, but it was kind of expected, given the circumstances.

“S-sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, but it’d be nice if you used some of that fancy Force training to good use if something like that happens again.” A pause. “Assuming you can do that without letting go!” Omyara steered the speeder up to where she’d been before the advertisement nearly crushed them to death. Or electrocuted. No time to think about it, she thought, since most of her energy was going to getting them out of danger.

“I can try!” Anna giggled. “Never tried it before, but I’ll do my best!”

How reassuring, she thought dryly. The Sith was gaining on them, and it took everything in her power not to panic then and there. Breathe in, breathe out. In, out.

“Omyara, I have an idea!”

“I’m all ears, kid, just make it fast.”

“I’ll shoot lightning at his speeder!” 

It was simultaneously terrifying and completely genius. Terrifying, because the girl’s master or whatever almost certainly could do the same, but genius because it’d probably work. “Go for it! I’m gonna swerve behind this big bus!” A sharp turn to the right and the bus was behind them.

The Sith followed suit. “Shoot ‘im now!” The lightning made a horrifying crackle noise, and Omyara glanced behind her and saw the man’s speeder take a nosedive. “Well, here’s hoping we’re safe now!”

She slowed to a halt as they finally approached the spaceport, pulling out her credit chit--somehow going faster saved her credits? Strange.

“That was too much excitement, kid,” she sighed, slumping off the bike and pocketing her chit. “Let’s get to my girl.”

“What’s your ship’s name, Omyara?” asked Anna as they walked to the hangar. Wasn’t too far, Omyara thought.

The ship was in view. “This girl,” Omyara said, gesturing broadly and proudly, “is the  _ Bare Minimum _ . I won her in a game of sabaac.”

“What a silly name!”

“It’s a good name for a good ship.” She opened the hatch to the inside of the ship after walking up the landing ramp. “Get inside and get comfortable.”

Anna stopped halfway up the landing ramp. “What is it, kid?” Omyara asked, slightly concerned.

“I...I just wanted to say thank you. I realize my situation has put you through a lot, but I’m super grateful you’ve saved my life. I...don’t want to be a Sith. I might go see if the Jedi take me in once I’m done helping you.” Anna smiled.

“Uh, you’re welcome.” Omyara wasn’t used to gratitude; most people hated her after she used them for what they wanted out of her, but this whole situation was completely out-of-character and she wasn’t sure what to do about it besides that half-assed...whatever she’d just said. “Let’s get going. I’ve got to pick up supplies on Tanaab, and I suspect you’ll want to go find some Jedi there.”

“Are there Jedi on Tanaab? I was always told they were all on Coruscant.”

“They got bombed out on Coruscant, kiddo. I don’t know where the Jedi are now, but their Agriculture Corps are on Tanaab, and have been since the war. I do get supplies from them, but that’s the strictly law-abiding stuff I transport.”

“You’re a criminal?”

“I suppose so. I don’t really wanna talk about it. It pays the bills, so I’m not gonna complain about the kinda work I can get right now.”

Omyara suspected that Anna needed a moment to process, so she left it be. Anna walked quietly into the ship, eventually choosing to situate herself in what would be the crew quarters if Omyara had a crew after they walked towards it. “I’ll be on the bridge if you wanna talk, but I gotta get the  _ Minimum _ ready for takeoff,” she said before she walked off to the bridge.

She felt that maybe she should get an astromech droid when all this was over, since...it was nice to have someone to talk to, to help out with the everyday happenings of a ship.

But that was an idea for her in the future. For now, she flipped all the needed switches and prepped for flight out of the spaceport.

Only a few hyperspace jumps until it was time to say goodbye.

The ride over to Tanaab was mostly uneventful. They ate a few meals of ration bars in companionable silence, and then did their respective “jobs” on the ship (which was code for Omyara doing basically everything while Anna asked piles of questions about what she was doing).

It flew a little faster than Omyara’d expected considering the circumstances.

She pulled the ship out of hyperspace as the navigational systems told her they were nearing Tanaab, the light coming to a sudden stop as the planet came into view. A simple agricultural planet, one far too simple for her tastes, but work was work no matter where you got it. She sighed as she prepared for descent onto the planet’s surface after getting the go-ahead codes from the space traffic controller, who balked at her outdated credentials.

“All aboard to Tanaab,” the Zabrak woman said over the intercom. “Get seated, kiddo.”

The small Twi’lek, when Omyara deemed to look back at her, let out a small toothy grin before buckling into her seat.

Some minutes later, they’d landed, and Omyara opened the ship’s airlock to let the kid and herself out, along with a speeder with a trailer for the supplies she was gonna pick up. The Jedi she’d called while in transit showed up not long after, a Rodian and a Cerean. “Master Twen Mere-So, Master Lohn,” the Cerean introduced herself and her fellow master, “and who is this young one?”

“I’m Ann’aola Tualin,” the Twi’lek said, her lekku bouncing as she raised a fist in the air. Her enthusiasm started to even out quickly, however, as she realized this meant she’d be saying farewell to her unexpected savior. “Goodbye, Omyara. Thank you, and I hope the Force brings you good things!”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. It was good meeting ya, too. Stay outta trouble, ya hear?”

The kid slowly walked away aside the two masters, but not before sticking her tongue out at the Zabrak spacer. Omyara rolled her eyes.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omyara runs into an old friend.

_ 26 ATC, Onderon _

Omyara was getting tired of the spacer life, to be entirely honest with herself. She’d taken on a droid crew, but nothing had really changed. She was still swindling people, spending more credits than she made sending cargo across galactic lines, even got involved with a Sith once or twice. And she was doing it all alone. Most people her age doing what she did were either dead or retired, and while she didn’t want either of those fates, it was about time to face the music.

She was a relic of a time long since passed.

The Zabrak hobbled on her bad leg that she’d gotten shot in three times too many in the past year as she re-attached the cargo carrier to her speeder, which had naught a single part that it had started with left, and stuck her key into the ignition. The client on Onderon had mentioned sending material to a hunting lodge where supposedly the king of Onderon was hiding behind in, and he wanted his contraband now.

The lodge came up into view after about an hour of dodging trees and nearly speeding into a rampaging beast, and there stood a figure she thought she’d never see again.

“Anna? What the thousand karking Corellian suns are you doing here? How did you survive the Eternal Empire? When did you--”

The Twi’lek was taller and less scrawny now, having filled out, but she looked basically the same, but like...an adult. She looked confused, looking to her companions, a tall human woman wearing a robe over some sort of ceremonial armor and a short human man who looked more machine than, uh, human, Omyara guessed.

The man looked to her, “Master Tualin, do you know her?”

Anna smiled, and Omyara noticed that she was staring at him in the sort of affectionate way that Omyara determined to be the beginnings of a crush. “I believe so, Arn. Omyara, what are you even doing here? This is a warzone!”

Omyara shrugged as she got off her speeder. “Well, cargo transport doesn’t stop just because of a war ‘n all, y’see,” she rambled. “Dunno why else I would be here.”

“And you’re delivering to the King of Onderon, aren’t you,” the human woman said plainly. “Are you supporting the Imperial war effort?”

She was, but she couldn’t let the others know that. “Uh, not really, I just got told, ‘bring all these kowakian monkey-lizards to--’” Omyara paused, pointing at the coordinates on her datapad, “‘right here. They must all be red to suit the king’s very necessary blah blah blah.’”

The human remained skeptical. “And you didn’t know anything else?”

“Yep.” It was a simple enough answer, and it was the truth.

Anna fiddled with her left lekku and chewed on her lip before seemingly having an epiphany. “Omyara, turn back, please. We don’t have much, but I can compensate you for your trouble if you leave. I won’t have my old friend die if I can avoid it. You are in trouble if you do this job.”

“Excuse me, kiddo, I do need the--oh. Okay. Gotcha. How much we talking?”

The Twi’lek paused a moment to consider. Cash was a hot commodity right now, after the Eternal Empire wracked everything. “Two hundred fifty thousand, here,” she said, handing over a credit chit, which Omyara pocketed immediately. “Please leave, and we’ll pretend nobody saw you. And, uh, leave the monkey-lizards here.”

“Very well, kiddo, and uh, what’s the thing you Jedi use? May the Force, uh--”

“Be with you. May the Force be with you?”

“Yeah, uh, that.” 

With that, Omyara hobbled back onto the speeder after taking a minute to unload the cargo of live monkey-lizards in cages off of her cargo carrier. She’d honestly thought those Jedi would kill her, but perhaps she’d get another chance at life.

Anna certainly had gotten hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title comes from lyrics in "Dead of Night" by Orville Peck, who is the cowboy king of my heart.


End file.
